


Drowse

by ursoself-satisfying (catbusfurrever)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Language, Recordings, Sleeping Together, band squabbles, bit of pining, sleepy, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 19:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbusfurrever/pseuds/ursoself-satisfying
Summary: Roger's current companion falls asleep on a cold morning a the farm and misses the band's daily domestic.





	Drowse

**Author's Note:**

> i take requests n im active on tumblr!! find me @ursoself-satisfying !!!!
> 
> Ben!Roger Taylor x F!Reader
> 
> A/N: yikes!!! here she is shes early,,, shorter than my last few but still a good length, about 4 pages, its soft n a little idk experimental? different from my others, but i hope still good!!! enjoy!!!
> 
> Warnings: none really… a bit of language, I have a sailor’s mouth… n uh cheeky fred? irritated bri? them all being petulant children?

Delilah padded across the recording table, mewling softly. The light was dimmed and Freddie crooned into the microphone in the recording area. The bite of the cold outside bled through the cracks around the doors which left the band members inside bundled under layers of soft furs and blankets. Over the weeks of occupying this particular studio, different women had littered the couch almost every week and this was the first time one had stuck around for longer than a weekend. Brian was at the controls, sliding the knobs up and down with Freddie’s demands. Deaky was seated beside him with Delilah curled contently on his lap. He stroked her fur with gentle, calloused hands and smiled. She purred affectionately.

On the couch laid just one girl today buried under coats and covers thrown haphazardly on the furniture after entering. Freddie’s sonorous voice filled the chilly air like a warm kind of calmness encasing the contents of the connecting rooms. Today he was singing something softer, slower, but he was just as powerful. He had written love onto paper and was preaching it to his friends on the other side. It seemed he has gotten into a flow as he had gone nearly the whole song without pausing to direct Brian.

The room was filled with shadows and in the indistinguishable darkness, Freddie’s voice wasn’t just heard, it could be seen. Floating between the curly heads of Brian and John, it wafted colorfully through the room, the feelings of being loved and being in love. Roger sat on the armrest of the couch and let the word echoing around him really soak into his skin. His hand absentmindedly stroked the hair of the woman asleep on the couch. She stirred unconsciously at his touch, pushing into his hand for more contact.

Deaky glanced over at the drummer, mindlessly pushing the dangling hair of [Y/N]’s from in front of her face to behind her ear. Roger was listening to Freddie’s voice intently, visualizing the sights and sounds of his accompanying instrument. A tang of a cymbal shining in the stage light then the boom of a drum, champagne splashing over the skins, his skin, glimmering little drops sparkling across his view. The scene reverberated through his skull as he closed his eyes.

Deaky, being an angel, a Cupid, in his heart, decided it was time to interrupt the fantasy with a better reality. “Alright, shove up.” He had moved to stand next to Roger and motioned for him to scoot over, the cat still in one delicately cradling arm.

“Oh? And where do you expect me to move then?” Roger scoffed lightly, “s’nother armrest over there, mate.” He paused, “You already had a seat anyway!”

“Sure, but I want this one.” The bassist nodded towards the sleeping form, “This one is better.” Roger glanced at the coddled girl beside him, his fingers still entangled in her loose locks.

“And why’s that again?” Leaning back against the wall and straightening up his thin frame in some attempt to intimidate. Deaky raised his eyebrows and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Delilah squirmed a bit and lept from the musician’s arms to the floor and sauntered away in proper Mercury appropriate fashion.

“I think you know why, Roger.” He raised his eyebrows and blinked once at him. Roger stared at him incredulously. He had to make a decision to move or be moved. Where to, though? His soft gaze fluttered over [Y/N]’s curled body as her lips parted and let out hot pillowy breaths. Roger could only imagine what she could be dreaming about now.

“Just-” The blonde sighed, “Help me not to wake her, ok?” Deaky’s expression stuttered at his bandmate’s pleading look, unsure what he was intending to do. Roger moved his hands from the woman’s hair, retracting them slowly then sifting the tips of his fingers to snake under her head and shoulders, lifting her up lightly. Deaky finally got it and lunged, surprised, to help him hold her while the percussionist slid beneath her so her head laid nicely on his lap.

It was a soft sight. Warmth emanated off the scene, with Roger glowing in admiration and love. The bassist’s gaze lingered a bit too long on the face of the napping guest. Roger noticed this and shoved him a bit. “Oi, get your own-” He waved the other off and Deaky retreated with hands up in surrender and took the newly freed seat behind him.

Freddie was on his umpteenth take of the lullaby-like melody he’d been singing for the past hour, striving for the perfection he knew he was capable of. “Fine, Freddie, let’s go again then,” Brian spoke tiredly and clicked off the mic, sliding the toggles on the board and resetting the thin worn tape. Freddie started over from the beginning, once again flooded with the same melody, resonating differently every time.

The girl on Roger’s lap hummed and nuzzled into the drummer’s leg. She had grabbed his hand rested on her shoulder, uncovered from under the layers of overcoats and bundled blankets, and held it. Her eyes were still closed, fast asleep, but she smiled. Roger brushed her hair away from her ear and paused a moment, just looking at her. He let her contagious content-ness sink into him and stroked the back of her ear with his thumb. She twitched and he smiled.

Deaky smiled softly at the two of them, though there was a tinge of…something else in his eyes. Freddie held a note and let the music fade out as he finished his song. Roger leaned down and pressed a cushioned kiss to [Y/N]’s exposed cheek, staying connected a second too long. His eyes closed and he grinned against her skin.

“How was that one, Bri?” Freddie took off his headphones and placed a hand on his raised hip.

“Wonderful, Fred, just as most o'the others were.” The guitarist sighed and leaned back in his chair from his place against the counter. He scratched his head beneath his mountain of curly hair.

“Well, I think I liked that one. I’m done-”

“Finally!” Brian exclaimed and threw his hands up in praise and was kicked in the back of the chair by the Deaky. The conscious pair on the couch aggressively shushed the other. Brian spoke with his hands, ‘Fuck! Sorry! Geez!’ The sleeper squirmed slightly but otherwise remained asleep. Roger sighed in relief.

Brian turned to really get a glimpsed of what he’d interrupted and rolled his eyes when he did. Of course, the romantics were distracted. Not that they all, collectively, weren’t romantics, but for this certain someone, in particular, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Deacon housed a soft spot. Freddie emerged from the behind the glass door of the recording booth as if an array of doves should flutter in his wake. This was per the usual for him. Brian took care of the final tape, rolling back together and storing it with the other corresponding takes. Delilah purred and arched her back against Fred’s legs. “Oh, there you are darling, I’d wondered where you’d gotten off to.” He took his surrogate child into his arms and held her fluffy coat to his face. “Did you enjoy that? I did try hard, I wrote it for you, you know,” he whispered to her as he stepped aimlessly around the small confines of outside the booth. He hummed and giggled into the plush creature he held so dearly before raising his gaze to lay eyes upon the trio sprawled across the furniture. He made an appalled face and gagged both audibly and visibly. “Get a room, darlings, your intense eye-fucking is getting all over my poor sofa.” The singer raised his eyebrows, “And she’s not even awake to enjoy it.”

Roger was snapped from his dream-like daze and shook his head at his dark-haired friend. He scoffed, offended. Deaky seemed mildly amused but furrowed brows accompanied his smile. Before the blonde could get any responses out, Freddie spoke again, “Oh, and when you do,” he paused and shot Roger a sly, knowing, heavy-lidded look, “get a room, that is-” With a furl, Fred spun and flopped into the open chair, letting his darling animal roam over his shoulder as he stroked her tail. The other’s eyes still hung on him in anticipation. He chuckled, “invite poor Deaky, won’t you? He’s been deprived long enough.” He winked.

The bassist went red in the face and his smile turned into an almost muppet worthy, sheepish frown, biting back embarrassment. “Oh, shut up, Fred,” Brian barked. The tall, tired astrophysicist reorganized the rolls of recordings and shook his head as he did his best to ignore his temperamental bandmates. The following phrases were shouted simultaneously and when separated read:

“Oh, ‘shut up’? Sure, ignore the negligence of Deaky’s simmering sexuality!”

“His ‘sexuality’ is none of your goddamn concern, now, is it?”

“About as much as your business in the bedroom is-”

“Which is none!”

“It is when it keeps me up until 4 in the fucking morning!”

“Really, guys, please-”

“Just because I’m getting laid and you’re not is no reason to bring John into this situation!”

“Darling, you have no idea how much I get-”

“C’mon, it was just a joke, I don’t mind-”

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” A quieter voice interrupted the chaos. The entire room took a sharp breath in and guilty eyes landed on the one who spoke, [Y/N]. Her body shivered and her eyes were barely opened. She saw the room through a heavy curtain of lashes as she tried to find the energy to focus on a single aspect of the scene before her.

“See? Look what you’ve done, you’ve woken her up.” Brian looked back at the merry band incredulously as his hands stuttered in the air before going back to what he was doing, an irritated aura still wafting off him.

Dragging his attention away from the guitarist, Roger closed his hung open lips and looked down at the wide eyes of the woman on his lap. “I’m so sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to-”

Her hands slowly floated to settle on the sides of the drummer’s face. He leaned into her touch and their eyes bore into one another, past their own reflections. “You never do.” She smiled softly and yawned, ending it with a squeak. Deaky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, showing the small gap between his teeth. Roger, without looking, smacked his couch neighbor in the leg, sensing his stare landing on his lap. Deaky quickly looked away.

Freddie ‘awed’ and smiled widely. “Now, Rog, I suggest you still carry her to the bridal suite now that she’s awake.” [Y/N] turned and raised her eyebrows at the speaker, only half filled in on the events occurring before her wake. Freddie wiggled his eyebrows at them all. He got up to exit the room and turned with a cheeky look holding the door open, already halfway out. “Coffee? Brian? Deaky, you’ll need the energy for later-” He winked and narrowly avoided the backchat.

“Oh, fuck off, Fred.” The sluggish girl shot up and turned to Deaky. Brian sat back up and stared. Roger just slowly turned and gaped at the normally quiet musician. Dumbfounded, the group then look at each other. Deaky grinned, a bit of hidden pride held behind his smooth features.

Freddie bounced on his heels and took in the bassist, eyes trailing up and down his form quickly. “You do know how to make the women want you.” The door slammed behind him with a dramatic ‘woosh’ of cold air.

 

“God, can you-” Brian turned to the source of repetitive noise and was greeted by a snoring Roger, asleep, with [Y/N] curled up against him, arms entangled and skin connecting in as many ways appropriate. His messy blonde hair fell over her side as his body collapsed on top of hers. The layers of furs, jackets, and blankets that had been thrown over there hours ago now covered the two of them, though they had more than enough body heat to keep them warm. The temporary studio technician, otherwise known as the lead guitarist of the bloody band Queen, sighed and slouched in his chair, hair bunching up behind him, raising his headphones slightly off his head.

The plucky bass stopped and the player spoke, “How was that, Bri?” His nimble hands thumped anxiously against the base of his instrument even after he’d stopped. Deaky looked on eagerly through the glass separating them, awaiting feedback.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as the increasingly louder snores drifted to him from the pile of bodies on the couch. He threw his head back and held back tears of exhaustion. In his weakest whisper, he responded, “One…more..time…please, John…” The oblivious bassist gave him a wide grin and a thumbs up.


End file.
